


Trouble the Water

by Everlind



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bath Sex, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Romance, Threesome, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:32:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4242693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everlind/pseuds/Everlind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re pleased with the results.</p>
<p>Results being a giant puddle of overly aromatic water with two of your (almost) naked favorite ladies in it. The lack of actual naked is Aradia’s fault, who was still wearing her clothes when she plunged in. Currently she is attempting to take off her shirt, quite a trial with her horns tangled in the wet fabric. There’s a lot of flailing involved. Meanwhile Terezi is dog paddling in circles around her, humming the Jaws theme song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble the Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redglares_hot_butt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redglares_hot_butt/gifts).



Steam rises in sinuous coils from the water’s surface. Dipping in a toe results in a pleasant sort of shudder, one that rushes all the way up to your horns. The sensation is a visible pulse as your freckles erratically gleam fuchsia.

The water is murky, Terezi poured in way, way, waaaaaay too many perfumed oils. _Way_ way. Anything remotely soapy she could find, actually. As well as some stuff that probably isn’t meant for the bath (buoy you sure hope that isn’t an empty bottle of laundry detergent over there). Somehow it still manages to smell nice. Soapy. There’s one final, crucial ingredient missing though.

“You know what this needs?” you muse, finger tapping against your pursed lips.

From the other side of the hot tub Terezi strangles the bottle one last time -it makes a funny _fweee!_ noise that draws a glub of a giggle from you- and tosses it carelessly over her shoulder. It disappears with the distinct sound of shattering glass. “Napalm?” she suggests.

You present her with your best _Terezi no_ look. Blind or not, Terezi knows, her response is to present a neat rack of fangs at you, a fully fledged gargoyle smirk of _Terezi yes_. You purse your mouth to hide how much you want to kiss that toothy maw of hers. “It needs more bubbles,” you say instead.

Aradia appears at your side with a handful butt-patting in store for you. Her broad palm goes plap-plap against your buttocks. “You glubbed out bubbles for two days last time we added foam,” she reminds you.

“Aw carp,” you grumble, but she’s right. Sneezing bubbles hadn’t been very sexy. Funny, but not sexy. Snorting bubbles up your girlfriends’ nooks had only been hilarious the first three times or so.

“Maybe next time, guppy,” Aradia tells you, topping your butt off with more patting. Plap-plap-plap (you like that sound, it’s the sound of Aradia touching your butt and it is _awesome_ ). With one last decidedly affectionate swat, she steps onto the rim of the jacuzzi, fists planted on her hips like a conquer. Her butt looks great in those shorts, which are very short indeed, leaving the line of her lush, bare legs underneath ever so thoughtfully available for ogling. “You know what this actually needs?”

“Piranhas?” Terezi tries again.

Your _Terezi no_ look is hardly cold. You reapply it. 

“No,” Aradia says. “It needs more Aradia. _POOL BOMB_!”

A wave of water slaps into your faces. You can hear Terezi smack thoughtfully. “Scrumptious,” she declares. 

There’s another slosh of water as she tips herself headfirst over the edge. A wave of perfume shifts from the surface, you breathe in deeply. It really doesn’t smell all that bad -kind of reminds you of a pack of scented crayola with all the caps twisted off at once. Artificial fruity overkill. About seven thousand gallons of it.

It’s not even actually a pool, it started out as a super fancy jacuzzi set into the floor of the ablution block. Kind of small, though, so you asked Jade to do her space thing and Jade’s so very good at the space thing indeed. You’re pleased with the results.

Results being a giant puddle of overly aromatic water with two of your (almost) naked favorite ladies in it. The lack of actual naked is Aradia’s fault, who was still wearing her clothes when she plunged in. Currently she is attempting to take off her shirt, quite a trial with her horns tangled in the wet fabric. There’s a lot of flailing involved. Meanwhile Terezi is dog paddling in circles around her, humming the Jaws theme song.

(Earth movies are great! You really liked that one, it was so CUT--E! Though it gave you sad pangs about your lusus.)

Your girlfriends are nerds. Cute nerds, but suffering from the worst case of dorkus gigantus you ever did see -and you dated _Eridan_. Seems like it’s up to you to bring sexy back.

(Earth music is great, too! You don’t understand why Karcrab complains like, all the time!)

Just as you whip your dress over your head, there’s the distinct sound of shredding fabric. For a beat you worry it was you (which would suck so much, this dress is your favorite!) but no, it’s Aradia who lost her patience. Half a shirt goes flying across the block. No sight of of the other half, best not ask. Terezi applauds. Whether she’s applauding your nakedness or Aradia’s ruined shirt you’re not sure, as she’s facing the far wall.

“Eyes up here, Pyrope,” you cluck your tongue.

Terezi turns with a mock affronted face in place, blinking at you with wide, sightless eyes. “How rude!” she crows. “You know I require extensive sensory feedback. I suggest a generous application of either my tongue or my hands to your person to remedy this. Or both.” There’s a pointed sweep of her tongue across her lower lip, leaving it shining wet and inviting.

A little thrill jumps up your spine.

“Both is good,” you agree and slide into the water with much more elegance than your two certified dorks, leaving barely a ripple. 

It’s hot, the water is. Almost too hot, it attacks you inside-out with the first pull through your gills. By the time you find the hard slats of Terezi’s bony shins you’re dizzy with it, have to drag yourself to the surface hand-over-hand, climbing up her body. Arms wind around your ribs, pinching half of your gills shut as she hauls you up the rest of the way. A palm finds the side of your face, fingertips skitter over the curve your mouth, your hooded lids.

Up close you can feel the fast flutter of Terezi’s bloodpusher, see the tiny crease between her brows. That’s when you realise she can’t smell you. Truly blind in a way she hasn’t been for a long, long while.

“Put a little too much soapy junk in there, huh?” you smirk and while she can’t see -or smell- it, she hears it in your voice. Her nose scrunches indignantly.

“It seemed like a good plan at the time!” Terezi protests. The tip of her claw catches at your bottom lip, eases your mouth parted. She leans in like she’s about to dip her tongue inside for a good taste, but instead she mutters against your lips, “Everything smells like drunken rainbow barf.”

“That’s so hot,” Aradia deadpans, water sloshing as she wades over. “I feel very seduced now.”

She looks seduced. But that might be because you’re naked.

Two rough hands find your hips, reel you in possessively. Yup. Definitely seduced. Terezi walks her daintier fingers down your throat and peels the sodden weight of your hair aside, draping it over a shoulder. A mouth slips across the slick skin of your nape, sweet, soothing, filling you up with flutters and wanting until Aradia sets blunted fangs over the knob of your spine and bites.

It’s a jolt of pure sensation and you gulp in a surprised breath. It goes down thick with the steam saturating the air, fills your atmosphere aspirators with muggy weight. Aradia is brand against your back, searing the reminder of the hemospectrum into your skin. 

Rust; you at the other side, fuchsia; Terezi gleefully in the middle. Her core temperature scalds you, a heat you’ve been more than willingly to immerse yourself in. Hands and heart into the fire. Hurts so good.

Your head spins.

Terezi kisses you.

Your mouth was still slack so it’s easy, a little brush of the lips, skin damp and catching. Her clever tongue traces the seam, curls past your fangs -you moan into it. As soon as you do she pulls away, the horrible thing, dips her head to place a deep, sucking kiss right at the swell of your breast.

Oh. _Oh_.

Aradia folds herself against your back, pushy and domineering, shoving you right into Terezi. You’re trapped, pinned, exactly where you want to be. Sometimes, when you wake between them in the morning, Aradia’s hair flung in a cloud of curls against your skin and Terezi’s elbow wedged into your side —you don’t ever want to leave. Instead you listen to the fast flicker of their pulses, trapped under their skin like frightened little creatures. An ephemeral staccato completely unlike own… and try not to think of it as a countdown.

You’ve got time, though. You most certainly have now. Death tends to put that sort of thing into perspective. And you’re so very glubbing grateful for now -even for the drunken rainbow barf!

“A royal sandwich,” Aradia snickers. “A monarch burgher. A lobster roll!” Terezi snickers into your tit.

Eyeroll. Total nerds. So you totally have a type, so what! It’s the best type ever, too, because nerds come in all sizes and shapes and god, you love that about them. Aradia is solid and plush against your back, Terezi a wire hanger bent to maximum pointy capacity, and both of them are strong and real and yours and alive.

The hard, rounded ridges of Aradia’s horns press against your shoulder blades, she’s shorter than you, but not as short as Terezi, who’s, ah, tiny (hee hee, you win!). You tower over the both of them easy, horns not included. 

It also means that when standing flat on her feet Terezi has a perpetual faceful of your rumblespheres, a rather convenient arrangement if you do say so yourself. She’s yet to stop giggling even though her mouth is busy mapping out the slope of your right breast, down the side and around the nipple, until she finds the heavy, taut bottom curve. Being a tease.

You strum claws along her thoracic cartilage slats, warning.

Aradia touches the back of your thighs, these light glancing strokes that make your nook pulse desperately. “Cod,” you gasp, squirming. 

You find yourself slick, just the beginning, comfortably so. Enough that rubbing your thighs together shifts the lips of your nook against each other in interesting ways. A fingertips pushes between the fullness of your legs, outlines the slit, trailing a silver-quick lick of fire, she’s so warm, so unbelievably warm, warmer than the water —burning but never hurting. You gasp in another mouthful of that heady air, hollow your back at how good it is. Tendrils of wet, curling hair drag against your skin like a thousand tiny kisses.

There’s a sharp pull of pleasure at your nipple -you’re just in time to see Terezi pull away with a flick of her tongue against the tip, allowing it to prickle with sensitivity against the chill air. Between your palms her skull is so devastatingly fragile and you’d _never!_ …but you could. Terezi knows you could and rumbles a growl at you.

You guide her jaw to your nipple until her rough tongue obligingly scrapes against pebbled peak. You shiver from the bones up, even as Aradia again slides her fingers between your thighs from behind. Automatically your hips hitch, wanting more, the water laps erratically at your waist and then against up against the edges of the pool. Aradia kisses your shoulder, slides the rough pads of her fingers with slow intent between your legs, you ache in the best possible way, mouth dropping open.

The water is wet, sure, but it’s a different sort of wet there, all slick wanting, and absolutely fantastic when Aradia presses down a little more, enough her finger slides into the centre of that hungry soft skin. Your pusher skips several beats in its frenzy.

You chirr helplessly. Aradia hums, warm like honey. Terezi prickles teeth on your skin, teases the peak of your nipple with the tip of her tongue, jolts of cruel bliss.

Aradia presses her mouth to the ball of your shoulder. “Hey there. How are you doing?”

“Ah-ahh,” you manage, around the fever-glitter throb between your legs. 

“Noisy, noisy,” Terezi scolds, even as her fingers thread into your hair and pull your head back a little, tugging just hard enough the sweet sting of it brings another noise from you, one loud enough to echo off the walls. You blush hot to the tines of your fins at how dirty, how blatantly _sexual_ the sound is, something that needs and begs.

“I didn’t quite catch that,” Aradia says, finger pushing into you to fuck you shallowly. Now you wail, going to the tips of your toes to rock with it.

Terezi tsks some more, doodles absentminded soapy swirls across your rumblespheres. Considers your flushed face, your helpless noises. Her face blazes alight with a wonderful, horrible plan. “I propose we gag the suspect,” she says to Aradia.

“Hmm,” comes the response, slowly extracting her finger from your nook. Smears it along your tingling folds. “Let me guess… the gag just so happens to be between your legs?”

Terezi gives an approving nod. “You guess correctly!” 

“Your wily cunning astounds me, Neophyte,” Aradia says dryly. Although as soon as her mouth finds that tender, helpless spot on your throat, she murmurs, “You up to that guppy? You’re looking a little overcooked around the gills.”

She probably means how your freckles have shorted out quite permanently, you’re glowing like a fuchsia strobe light. 

It’s hard to form words, like your tongue is too thick to wrap around the syllables. You allow yourself to think about squeezing it into that tight little nook of Terezi’s, force her to make some noises of her own. “I feel fintastic,” your voice comes out hushed, more than a little hoarse. Then you laugh, breathless and excited. 

These _girls_. You’ve gone boiling fierce inside-out until you could match Aradia. 

Aradia, whose hands join Terezi’s on your tits, cradling them with the thumbs at your nipples, swiping little foamy arches. “Good girl,” she purrs it like a threat, like a ferocious promise. 

And then you’re being urged underwater. You eel down between their bodies.

Immediately your gills flare wide, finding it’s easier to breathe the warm water rather than the soupy air, enough to invigorate you. It’s dark, the water is cloudy, not that you have to go searching, she’s right there. That, and you can _taste_ Terezi’s aroused tang, even through all the stuff in the water, sharp and enticing with how hot she is for you. Terezi’s nook is the cutest thing really: tiny and tidy and efficient -possibly lethal, considering its owner- much like the rest of her. It’s easy to fit the whole of your mouth over her, perfect for greedy strokes of your tongue.

You don’t waste any time doing just that. You tongue her open.

Above you Terezi groans, a muted, dull noise through the weight of the water. Even better? You can feel the tremor of her thorax vibrate through the liquid and tickle your fins like a reward.

There you float, enjoying the soaking wet satin of her nook. All around you your hair unfurls and undulates like fronds of seaweed, delivering feathery lashes along your skin, a cocoon of water and dark hair and caressing hands.

Smooth warm silkiness spreads under the flat of your tongue, you spread it upwards with a good lick. Hands catch you by the horns, _oh_ , oh fuck, you can feel that grip resonate throughout your pan and down your spine, like Terezi carved away a layer and made herself right at home in the marrow of your bones.

(she would)

(you want her to)

Your body is a relaxed stretch; you spent hours just floating at the bottom of the ocean, suspended, it was easy. A network of muscles flexing, fingers and toes spreading wide until the webbed membrane strung between your knuckles ached with the restless pull and push of an enormous body of water tormented by two moons.

It leaves your legs slightly parted for balance and you can feel a steady trickle of fluid from your nook. A thigh slots between yours, unscrupulously kicks them wider -you make a wild grab for Terezi’s narrow hips to steady yourself as Aradia steps into the fork of your thighs. Her fingers find your slit once again. Push in; steady pressure that has you moaning into Terezi’s nook.

Tightness coils low in your belly, the first flutter of orgasm, yes, but also the swell of genetic material straining your seedflap. Not urgent yet, not at all, just enough that you know it’s there, makes your heart kick a little faster. As you suck an open-mouthed kiss over Terezi’s clit, it occurs to you neither of you thought to bring a pail.

And Terezi must be close.

Really close, you thrust your tongue inside of her, giving tight little stabbing digs that wrack her body. Somewhere above the surface, Terezi curses, filthy enough to put Karkat to shame, and then thrills the sweetest little sound at the end of it. It’s delightfully dirty.

Aradia adds another finger, deftly slides them in and out until you feel tight and hungry for it, a hunger you transfer to suckling at the tender flesh of Terezi’s nook, pulling all the sighs and hitches from her you can’t make. She leaves one of your horns to cup your chin, keeping your face elevated. Her arousal coats your lips and chin, Terezi swipes her thumb through it until it dissolves.

_No pail_ , you remind yourself. But even as you do you’re imagining her letting go, right in the water, genetical material blooming free and slipping in through your mouth and out through your gills —well.

Some ingrained part of you goes _ew_ ever as your mouth waters for it, wetter and wetter still as you lap at her nook. Hands keep you close and Aradia has a firm grip on your hip and firmer fingers stroking into your offered nook. You curve your back for it.

Water roils warm around you. You float.

Pleasure spirals through your belly. Terezi twitches against your mouth, grinds her hips along the flat of your tongue, she’s sloppy and sopping -you give her a finger, copying what Aradia’s doing to you. It slides in so easy, yet still tight enough you have to push a little. Keep pushing until you’re palm deep, until you have to lick at her through and around your own fingers.

There’s a moment where Terezi falters, curls in over the centre of herself until her lean belly is propped against your forehead, the tips of your horns scraping skin -whose, you’re not sure.

_No pail_ , you think again, and suck hard at engorged nub of her clit. 

Above you is a cry, Terezi goes rigid as she comes over your face, floods your mouth. The muscles of her nook flutter and pull at your fingers, the taste of her is thick on your tongue. Your horn creaks between her fingers and your own nook clenches down hard in sympathy.

It’s glorious.

It’s Aradia who bodily lifts you to your feet, up into the sudden shock of cool air, a headrush that has you swooning in her arms.

“Steady,” Aradia tells you, soft and hungry. Arms gather you close, cradle you against her chest.

Your forehead finds the safe hollow of her throat while you gulp in desperate breaths, hopelessly trying to find your composure. Everything tastes of Terezi, smells of her, you think you’ll be scarping her out of the thin filaments fringing your gills for days.

Across you Terezi is splayed against the rim of the tub, surrounded by a stain of teal particularly reluctant to dissipate. Her narrow face is stricken. “You fiend!” she gasps, and begins to laugh uncontrollably.

Aradia’s hands travel through your hair. “Still good?” she asks, cupping your breast to track the erratic gallop of your bloodpusher. 

Your head bows back over her shoulder. “Yeah,” you gasp, “I just, oh please, please, I can’t can’t—“

“But I can!” she informs you cheerfully. And then: “Hold this.”

You’re dumped into Terezi’s arms like an armful of sodden laundry.  Both of you squawk. Terezi squeezes your butt under the guise of steadying you. “That was delightfully filthy miss Peixes,” she murmurs against your earfin. “Didn’t know you had it in you. The Empire would have been scandalised.”

“ _Good_ ,” you snarl.

You mean that. You know better now. You wouldn’t have ever gotten to have _this_ , this beautiful mess of quadrants -your lowblood ladies. You could’ve torn the moons from the very filament of the skies, torn down the empress, torn down everything wrong to try and fix it —and would’ve been left with the ashes of a flawed people. Breaking something broken doesn’t fix it, not if there are no shards left to fit back together. Revolution is slow. It takes ages. Quite often centuries. Lifetimes. Lifetimes longer than more of half your friends’. 

Good thing the lot of you destroyed an universe or four -five? gosh, however many. This one is good. You like it. A lot. You can be happy _now_. Everybody can be. It’s nice.

Terezi’s shiver is nice, too. She likes it when you go all highblood-strung, because both you and her know very well you don’t have to be cruel to be a conqueror. Well, not much.

She’s lovely like this, needs to be kissed like this, so you do, mouth finding hers and licking your way past those sharp rows of teeth. Everything is still hazy and loose, the kiss is more than a little sloppy with you just lapping at Terezi’s mouth, continuous strokes over her lips until she’s just breathing in little hitches -more so when you tuck a thigh between her legs and grind it where’s she’s all sensitive and achy from overstimulation.

You grin against her lips. Terezi growls -then gasps as you press harder.

“Ladies,” Aradia clucks. It would sound scolding if it weren’t so obviously delighted. She shakes the two of you loose like two frisky cuttlefish, cuffing you chidingly against the horns and pushing Terezi’s snapping bear trap-maw back. “Up on the edge, I think you’ve stewed down there long enough, you look like a salmon. _Hup_.”

Hands find your waist. Aradia lifts you up easy, no need for her psyschokinetics, sets you down on the edge of the tub with a wet splat and a cascade of water. Your skin steams in the cool air.

Your relief is palpable, and you sit there swaying with your earfins splayed wide to cool down faster. There’s hair everywhere; the wet heavy drape of your own pooling by your hip while the rest trails into the water to join Aradia’s curls swirling against your legs. The cool air on your skin feels downright sensual, the brisk tiles sweet against the heat of your swollen nook.

You’re too hot, everything too tender to the touch. Aradia helps you lie down on your back -the shock of the tiles against your back is bracing- and then she flips you onto your belly between her palms, situating you until the rim bites into your hips. That’s even better. You spread your arms, drape them next to your head with your fingers pointing towards your horns, palms flat to soak up the chill. Your legs trail into the water, someone stroke the backs of them up, down, up, down, soothing, up to the swell of your ass and down again to tickle the hollows of your knees.

“Aradia,” you growl, a little mushy what with your cheek pillowed against the floor.

“Something you wanted?” Aradia says, nice and bland and completely horrible. A hand squeezes your buttock, it pulls the skin between your legs tight, parts your nook to the air. Searing exhales bounce into the crease where your leg flows into your ass.

You close your eyes and try to breathe, try to prepare for what you know is coming. Your own arousal slides down the lips of your nook, puddles under the mound where it kisses the floor.

Nothing can prepare you for that first soft flicker of her tongue against you.

You keen, stupid with how much you need it, beyond shame to beg for it. “Please,” you gasp.

Aradia groans against you while Terezi’s cool hands find your face. It’s soft, tender, strange and horrible and out-of-place and _fantastic_ , it’s been since Eridan. Your answering chirr is interrupted with a garbled purr. Both of them snicker because they’re awful, even though Aradia’s comes out in a hot puff of air against your wet folds.

You let out a little yip, then smack at Terezi when she cackles. “Clam up, you, ah-“ she’s gone for your horn again. It’s impossible to reconcile the gentleness of her knuckles sweeping the contours of your face while she keeps your head pinned to the tiles with a punishing grip.

There’s wet noises as Aradia fucks you with her tongue, wet and loud, god, how are they so loud _it’s mortifying_ , and yet you shiver and squirm and part your legs wider for more. She’s languid about it, pushing her tongue into you until you grunt and lift your hips to accommodate it, only to pull back out and lazily outline the puffy edges, avoiding where you want her most.

Lying flat on your abdomen is a sharp reminder of where your genebladder is hungry for release. You feel full and empty all at once, heavy with the weight of your arousal, so close you can almost taste how good it’ll be to let that tension go. Every pulse of your bloodpusher just revs the pleasure higher until everything goes really hazy and dreamlike.

Aradia sucks a kiss over your clit and you choke back a noise that really wants to be a sob. So close, so close, almost, closer still when she pets your slit with the rough pad of her thumb.

At your front Terezi curls herself onto the tile so she can face you, kissing you deeply and with feeling. You can hardly keep up, and then not at all when Aradia smoothly slides two fingers into you, done teasing at long last.

Fluid slides down the insides of your thighs and your nipples ache against the cold stone. There’s soft, slick noises from your nook, the sound of your gasping exhales against Terezi’s mouth. She sucks on your lower lip, with just the slightest prickle of fangs against the vulnerable flesh, you’re no longer kissing, just moaning into her mouth, needy little _ah! ah! ah!_ s Terezi swallows down.

Your gillslits flutter open, the stiff opercula fanning wide.

“Taste so good,” Aradia mouths the praise right against your nook, follows it up with another slow lick and then “Oh, Feferi,” your name in this low purling growl and that’s it, you’re gone.

You scream, a wounded and victorious thing as your claws draw gouges into the floor. It rings through the block, wild and eerie, hitting the clear, almost liquid pitch only a seadweller ever could, high enough to rattle bones and haunt dreams. It goes ragged at the end, lungs compressed with your own weight and you’re left with the roar of your blood pounding in your pan, heaving surges that end in your nook, bursts of material leaking out in tandem, no pail, just adding to Terezi’s mess, your face is on fire it’s so embarrassing and filthy and _good_.

It subsides with a little wounded noise from your end, a little cheep. Aradia’s fingers are hot in your nook and the outward drag of them nearly sets you off again. Another flood of slurry follows it. You lie in your own release, head spinning.

All your muscles have gone limp. The Batterwitch might burst in, armed to the teeth with pointy gold objects to fork you to pieces with and you wouldn’t even be able to flip her off. You’re sure Terezi will do it for you.

You like there for a while, heaving for air as you shake with how overwhelmed you are, all _hot-cold-adored-oh gross-and-shell yes_. Hands travel through your hair, lifting tendrils away from your face. Your fins tremble with a chiming only you hear.

“That was fun,” Terezi says. “Wasn’t it fun, Feferi?”

“Hrrgn,” you go, unable to articulate. 

“Perhaps the water was a bit too warm,” Aradia points out. She’s got a towel for you, you’re gathered up in it and lifted to your knees. 

Two sets of hands pat you dry, Aradia works a line of little kisses up your throat, is intercepted by Terezi over your shoulder -soft wet noises as they slide mouths together, little noises, then louder ones as she sucks on her tongue, drawing it into her mouth. You shiver and your nook gives a sharp little throb, you hiss -too soon, too sensitive, no more (yes please).

Someone chuckles, you’re not sure who, but it’s definitely Aradia who moans, a long noise drawn breathless. Sharp, jerky movements against your leg, Terezi’s wrist arches, Aradia cries out. The towel slips down to your waist, you twist around and trade places with Terezi for Aradia’s mouth.

You’re in love with this, with them, the taste of Terezi in Aradia’s mouth while your skin still sings with the memory of their combined touch. Sometimes you remember how short their lifespan is compared to yours, Aradia maybe one grain of sand in the hourglass of centuries, Terezi maybe three -you’re remembering it now, you hate it, it scrabbles sharp and many clawed at the inside of your thorax even as Aradia’s gorgeous full mouth slots against your own with a sweet noise. Because at the end, it’ll just be you.

That’s why you have to make every single moment count, make them as happy as they make you. You kiss her again, stroking her cheek and just drinking in the sight of them tumbled together damp and sex-drunk against your side. Both of them are smiling, fey, wild things.

Terezi is purring, she doesn’t do that very often. You tuck her against your side and twine your freehand with hers between the heat of Aradia’s legs.

“Your turn,” you murmur.

It’s right about then the door to the ablution block slams open.

Jade all but tumbles inside. “Okay, you’ve been in there for ages,” she says. “Did any of you drown?” 

“Whale,” you begin. “Not reelly.”

Jade purses her mouth, taking in the giant jacuzzi steaming like a diabolical soup of cleaning product, the watery fuchsia trail meandering towards where you and the girls are sitting. The sad, sodden heap of your forgotten towel and the acres of bare, gleaming gray skin on display. The mismatched pair of hands wedged between Aradia’s legs, currently unmoving. 

“Wow. See if I widen the pool for you guys ever again?” she huffs. “And you didn’t even invite me!”

“Oh, we weren’t done yet! In fact, you’re right on Time,” Aradia tells her genially. “Just as a planned.”

Jade beams. Terezi wags her brows once. Then twice.

  


You glubbing knew it. Round two.

Bring it on.

 


End file.
